


Trust, Love and Other Fairytales

by SomeNondeplume



Category: Baldur's Gate, Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:47:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 10,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27080686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomeNondeplume/pseuds/SomeNondeplume
Summary: Drabbles inspired by Balders Gate 3 early access.
Relationships: Astarion (Baldur's Gate)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 83





	1. Chapter 1

It was old, whatever it was. The stone walls were crumbling, where weather and time had eaten away at the mortar. They seemed to be in a courtyard, and a waist-high wall that edged the stairway gave way when Gale leaned up against it, which made him think better of relaxing his guard. Olivia had asked him to stand watch at the main door, which they’d determined as the only serviceable entrance into whatever it was. Temple? Fort?  
She’d tried talking to the pillagers, but then someone was casting from up high and it was over. Now she had to pick through their supplies, because they had nothing between the four of them, and she was doing so as quickly as possible.  
The wooden doors were sturdy, Olivia reasoned. If more were inside, perhaps they were none the wiser. They might not have heard all the fussing. They’d be bound to come out eventually, however. Somehow the wood had lasted longer than the stone in the courtyard.  
Temple, she decided. There must have been magic inside. There was an obvious difference between the courtyard and the main structure. It was being protected somehow, and kept from falling so far into disrepair.  
‘What are you doing,’ Astarion asked. He’d come to look over her shoulder. There was a mop of white curls at one corner of her eyesight.  
‘We’re going to be camping, yes? It doesn’t seem likely that we’ll find somewhere hospitable for the night.  
He clicked his tongue dismissably. ‘Camping. I’ve lived over 200 hundred years, and I’ve never resorted to camping’.  
Olivia had already rolled up some of the packs she’d found – canvas bed slips and blankets – and was gathering whatever smaller supplies she could into something they could carry. She’d made some judgement as to what everyone could carry without being at a disadvantage should they need to fight again. It seemed Shadowheart and herself would be doing the lions share. Not that Olivia had had the chance to ask her feelings about it, however. Shadowheart was occupied with disarming the bodies and disposing of swords and daggers and staffs somewhere. She’d said something ominous about it being entirely possible the strange magic might stop them from staying dead, and Olivia wanted to stay well away. Shadowheart could do as she saw fit.  
She stood up and took stock. They had food now, and something to sleep in, and a heavy tarpaulin she could tie above them to keep off any rain, should it come.  
‘Take this,’ Olivia said as she held out one of the smaller bundles to Astarion. He wrinkled his nose in distaste.  
‘Darling, no.’


	2. Chapter 2

They had found a nice spot by a river. The night was cool, but not cold, so standing in the water was bracing rather than uncomfortable. Olivia was glad for it.  
They’d been there two nights, and so far they had done a good job to make the camp as comfortable as possible. Physically comfortable, she supposed. There seemed to be no end to the tension between the six of them.  
Last night she was sure it was almost over. They had all taken a turn for the worst. Fevered and aching, they watched and waited for some further escalation in condition. She’d already started making plans for herself: determining where the line in the sand was, and at what point she’d choose to finish it herself. That seemed to be the last bastion of control, then. The healer in the druids grove had already tried to killer her, and Olivia would have been dead already if she hadn't threatened Nettie with a rampage she wasn’t sure she could actually have lived up to. Something must have seemed desperate enough the way she looked that validated her intention, and Gale had loomed behind her, because the whole thing had put his nose firmly out of joint too, for whatever reason. Then Lae’zel had put her knife right under Shadowheart’s chin at camp. Astarion had at least asked where she’d like his knife if worse came to worse. Although, she supposed, Astarion had done the same just a few days ago. At least now he was polite about his intention to kill her. That was something, at least.  
One night of fever and pain had reminded her of how filthy she was. They had fought tomb raiders and goblins, and she had no change of clothes. Being as dirty as she was could easily mean suffering some other infection, other than the one that had made itself at home in her head. It had all gone so quickly, and part of her had figured it would have been over one way or another before now. She’d have either been back in Baulder’s Gate, or dead. In a bath or in a grave. But no, there was no end in sight, and so she need to clean up.  
She sat down so she could be waist deep, taking her clothes with her, as well as a bar of soap she’d found in the tomb raiders belongings. The first thing she did was to scrub her face red, lean forward, put her legs between her knees, and held her head under for as long as she had breath. When she came back up, Astarion was watching from the shore.  
‘Are you here to help?’  
He smirked. ‘As tempting as that is, I must decline. Besides, I’ve had the wizard magic away my filth. River water and dead-man’s soap is a little harsh for this linen’. He stroked the white billows of his sleeves affectionately.  
Olivia screwed up her nose in distaste. The others had made it all seem silly. Why would she bathe in a cold river when magic could do it for her? Gale demonstrated with a spell that he flicked out from his fingers like it was nothing – like he was swatting away a fly - and the dirt from the road slid right off him and back onto the ground, so that a little circle of dust marked where he stood. Shadowheart could do the same.  
‘Is it the magic that bothers you?’ Astarion asked.  
‘No.’  
‘Oh?’  
‘It doesn’t. It... it just isn’t the same.’  
‘It’s certainly gentler. I can attest for that. The wizard has a tender touch.’  
Olivia laughed.


	3. Chapter 3

‘There’s something on the road.’  
‘Where?’  
‘There. See?’  
Wyll pointed ahead. There was a pregnant pause as they waited for movement, and then Lae’zel stepped forward and squinted hard.  
‘It’s a boar. It’s dead.’ She turned to Wyll and hissed, which she did in the same way that Astarion sighed - when someone did something she was disappointed with.  
‘It’s a big boar,’ Olivia offered. She felt sorry for anyone on the other end of that withering noise. ‘Something has killed it.’  
‘Exactly,’ said Wyll.  
Astarion had nothing to say until Wyll crouched by the carcass to inspect it. ‘Really. We have more pressing matters, unless you suspect this pig to be in league with the gith, which is doubtful.’  
‘It’s not bleeding,’ said Wyll. ‘It’s got some laceration here’, he pointed out for Olivia; she seemed to be the only one of us as interested in hearing him out. ‘But there’s no blood’.  
‘Vampires, then,’ said Astarion, raising his hands in exasperation. ‘Let’s add it to our list of terrible things, shall we.’  
‘It’s nothing to worry about until tonight,’ said Wyll, ‘when it’s dark.’  
‘Do you really suppose you could fend off a vampire? Has the Sword of the Frontier actually encountered a vampire before?’  
‘No, Astarion. Can’t say I have.’  
‘Well, I doubt there is much any of us could do if one took an interest. But it is eating forest creatures, so I think we can safely assume we are not on the menu. There are tieflings and druids aplenty in this damned forest! A veritable buffet of goblins! If it really wanted to feed on something other than boar, it would have done so.’


	4. Chapter 4

Olivia wasn’t sure she would ever sleep again. First of all, there were the dreams. They had concluded that it was the tadpoles doing, which made them all the more frightening. The man who came to her was perfect. When he spoke to her, she felt like she loved him, or had loved him for as long as she could remember. She was making an effort not to think of his face. She didn’t want to see that face.  
Secondly, there was the vampire. Olivia had felt that she was enduring the surprises of the forest quite well. She was hardly accustomed to living rough, but she knew how to keep a home, and had muddled through camping with a little confidence by thinking about it as much the same. Somewhere to sleep. Somewhere to cook. But the problem now was that it wasn’t a home. With a door – a proper threshold – a vampire could be kept at bay. Nothing precluded one from walking through the clearing and taking up a spot by the fire. Nothing would stop it from standing at the rivers edge, where she was washing up in the evening, apart from the running water. She’d be stuck there as nature intended until the same came up, however. And finding sanctuary in the water was only a plan so long as she was awake enough to sense danger, and make a run for it.  
In the end, Olivia resigned herself to a bottle of wine.  
Astarion had offered to watch for the night, after they’d discovered the boar. He was an elf after all, he said. Elf’s don’t need sleep like humans do. He’d be fine. Then, when it was just the two of them awake, he’d moved a little closer: close enough that he could take turns with the bottle.  
‘You’re afraid, aren’t you?’  
Olivia considered saying nothing. She didn't know how to understand the question, really. He said it in a funny way, like there was some grandiose she didn't understand, but also something else she couldn't even begin to put a finger on.  
‘You were right,’ she offered eventually. ‘I don’t like magic.’  
‘What’s not to like?’  
‘It’s... I never saw much of magic. Besides silly things, you know? Like carnival performers. But real magic is terrifying. The sort of thing you hear about in stories. It makes people do things and feel things that aren’t real. It makes people things they didn’t want to be. Its...  
Astarion said nothing, but stopped himself from finishing the last swig of wine.  
‘When I saw magic for the first time,’ she said, ‘I didn’t even know it was magic, because it was so little. Subtle. Not some grand gesture. Not the like carnival. It just happened, and it was done, and it seemed so easy. And because I wasn't the one who knew the magic, I wasn't...’  
He handed the bottle back. She liked that he didn’t ask anything more.  
‘I just don’t like being part of a plan I’m not privy to,’ she concluded.  
‘I couldn't agree with you more, darling’.


	5. Chapter 5

They ran to the fire, because goblins tended to be where the worst trouble was, and fire meant trouble in large supply.  
The courtyard was littered with bodies. They were fresh. Even in the heat of the inferno, the blood hadn't dried, and glistened like puddles of water might have in the same courtyard after a heavy rain. The only building that seemed to have avoided complete ransacking was the inn, but that was entirely alight.  
‘What in the hell's has happened?’ Gale called.  
The soldier was desperate. ‘There are survivors inside! They blocked the door when the horde came through, but then they set the damned thing on fire! Anyone who took shelter is trapped!’  
‘Where did the horde go?’  
‘There are people inside, man! Hunting must wait!'  
With that he was gone. A band of soldiers were trying to break down the front door. It was not solid wood - constructed out of long vertical planks - but heavy all the same, and seemed to be barred from the inside. Each time the soldiers charged it, shields in hand, it shuddered, but did not break.  
‘They could serve us well,’ Shadowheart yelled. She had her hands around her mouth in an effort to make her light voice carry further.  
‘You’ve put out fire before,’ called Gale.  
‘Not like this!’  
‘Well I’ve nothing to help knock down a barred door. Nothing stronger than six men!’ He pointed to where the double wooden doors remained standing, and where the line charged once again to no avail.  
‘There’s nothing to be done, then,’ said Astarion.  
Gale opened his mouth to agree, but he was cut off by a shrill cry from inside, the first one they'd heard break through the din of the fire.  
‘For gods sake!’ Olivia cried, and ran forward. She didn’t raise her shield like the other soldiers, or join the barrage. She ran left first, to a smaller dwelling off one side, with a wedge of firewood stacked against a ash-blackened wall. With an axe in hand, she ran for the doors. The others were not close enough to hear her clearly, beyond shouting something to the soldiers - something that made them move out of the way. She lifted her leg and kicked the door twice to test where the bar was, and then backed off to square her feet.  
Two strikes broke through the wood underneath the bar. She continued until the split was long. Then she switched angle and cut again. There was a wide triangle then, and she dropped the axe and with one leg as leverage bent the wood back until it snapped. The gradually crackling break joined the chorus of the flames. The smoke began to stream out in one heavy cloud, and met Olivia square on. She had to turn and splutter as two other guards approached again to help. With a small break in the door, Olivia ducked in. She wasn’t completely in the door, however. They could see her bend forward, like a cart horse. She lifted her back flat against the bar on the other side, and straightened upwards until something crashed, and the guards could fling the door open.  
Then the crowd streamed in, and others pushed out, and Olivia was nowhere to be seen in the mess of it all.  
‘Shit,’ Astarion muttered, and ran for the door. The others followed.


	6. Chapter 6

‘-a smith in Balders gate to reforge the grip. It is a fine blade, and a shame to leave it without an owner.’  
‘You were sure no one would come looking for it?’  
‘How many duelists do you meet that are left-handed?’  
‘I suppose I never thought about it. My brother was left-handed as a boy, but my father tied his left hand behind his back until he learned to use his right.’  
‘Common enough. I expect that is why swords such as this are so rare.’  
‘Did you try using it with your left? Before you had it altered?’  
Wyll laughed. ‘I certainly tried!’  
Astarion groaned, and Olivia and Wyll were distracted from their conversation. They were retracing their steps back towards the grove – back towards camp. ‘Really,’ he said. ‘You’ve been talking about this bloody sword for ten minutes.’  
‘Have you ever fought someone left-handed, Astarion?’  
‘I don’t know! I don’t think I ever cared to look! You can’t possibly mean to say that the most impressive foe felled by the Sword of the Frontier was left-handed?’  
He laughed again.   
Olivia had drawn her longsword, and was balancing it in her off hand. It was a little awkward, with her shield mounted on her left arm, but she swung it wide of the group to get a feel of it.   
‘I think I could do it.’  
Wyll’s eyes lit up with mischief. ‘A duel, then, between friends? Left hand only?’  
Gale leaned over to Astarion. ‘It seems a shame not to put money on it...’


	7. Chapter 7

‘Here.’  
Olivia looked at the bottle in surprise. She raised her eyebrows, but didn’t move.  
‘I won a criminal amount of money from Gale, thanks to your ridiculous fight. And I drank a good deal of your wine the other night. If it could be accurately described as wine.’  
‘Thank you,’ she said. She smiled, and inspected it.  
Astarion scoffed. ‘Don’t expect much of it.’  
‘It’s the thought that counts.’  
He didn’t entertain that with an answer. Instead he leaned back on his elbows, and looked up at the stars. He didn’t pay her any mind until he heard the cork pop.  
‘You’d best help me finish it, then,’ she said.  
Her hair was still damp from the river, and she was occupied to do the best she could at brushing it through her fingers, and leaning it towards the fire to help it dry a little faster.  
‘What will you do,’ Astarion asked, ‘when we’ve delivered this forest from the tyranny of the Absolute and liberated the healer?’  
‘I’m not sure,’ she admitted. ‘I’d like to go back to Baldurs Gate. I’d like to stay in an inn, and in a proper bed.’  
‘That would be lovely.’  
‘What about you?’  
‘I’ll be going somewhere with better wine, that is certain.’  
She laughed, and flicked her hair down her back again. ‘Baldurs Gate as well, then? Perhaps we will be travelling together a little while yet.’  
Astarion hummed thoughtfully. ‘I am not easily impressed,’ he said. ‘You, however, are very capable. I thought so when you took on those tomb raiders so readily.’ He wrinkled his nose in distaste. ‘But then you started talking about camping and I was worried you would turn out to be insufferable.’  
‘I don’t actually enjoy this, you know.’  
‘You seem very at home with it.’  
‘I like to think of it as dealing with the situation appropriately.’  
He scoffed. ‘Appropriate.’ He took a long drink of wine. ‘Appropriate is no fun.’  
‘What is it that you did before all this, exactly?’  
‘Why do you ask?’  
‘Because I’ve thought about it, and I cannot imagine where you came from.’  
‘From Baldurs Gate. I’ve told you that already.’  
‘You know what I mean.’  
‘I am a magistrate.’  
‘Well! God forbid I end up in front of the court in Baldurs Gate! Their magistrates find appropriate to be boring.’  
‘And why would you be in that sort of trouble? What were you doing in Baldurs Gate, exactly? You did not say ‘I cant wait to be home’. You said ‘I would stay at an inn.’ It is not home for you, then?’  
‘No.’  
‘That is all you wish to say on the matter?’  
‘Yes, actually.’


	8. Chapter 8

‘Good morning!’ Gale stretched, and as he stretched his back as long as it would go, with arms straight in the air, his voice seemed to stretch up with him. ‘It truly is, isn’t it? A very, very good morning.’ He looked at Olivia carefully. Studiously. ‘The night brings counsel, or so the saying goes, but last night had quite a bit more in store, wouldn’t you agree?’  
‘I certainly feel better,’ she admitted.   
‘And yet,’ he said, looking beyond her to the others, who were still fussing around with filling up water skins and eating enough food to tackle the day. ‘There is a certain look: a far off haunting.’  
‘You want to ask if I had a strange dream.’  
‘Ah. Consider that question answered.’  
They both knew their conversation was no private. Wyll and Astarion both turned around, ready to join in. Shadowheart was seemly entirely occupied with the river, but it almost seemed that for a moment her ears could spin around in her head and face their direction.   
‘What I saw surpassed vivid,’ admitted Gale. ‘The voice was too true. The touch too tantalising.’   
‘It was the same for me,’ said Wyll. ‘It seemed so real, It almost had me fooled.’  
‘Someone knows what we like,’ said Shadowheart, who seemed to have decided not to spectate this conversation. ‘They want something from us.’  
‘Well, the tadpole is not as clever as all that.’  
Shadowheart looked at Olivia in surprise. ‘Do you mean you did not see something you found attractive? Someone from your past, perhaps. Someone who leaves you at disadvantage.’  
Olivia seemed reluctant to answer, because now everyone was looking at her, and she realised that she’d started in on something she could not easily back away from.   
‘If you have any insight that might be useful in figure out what hold these tadpoles have...’ Gale pressed.   
‘Really,’ scoffed Astarion. ‘Now we’re sharing wet dreams. It’s practically prepubescent.’  
‘It seems to me that the tadpoles haven’t completely dug in, so to speak. That’s all I mean. I saw someone I knew, but not someone who had that sort of hold over me.’  
‘You think it has not taken hold of your subconscious thought, you mean?’ asked Gale.   
Olivia waved her hands to try and dismiss the whole thing. ‘Look, I really don’t mean anything by it. All I’m trying to say is that I don’t feel that my true thoughts have been played with just yet. There’s some things that weren’t right, and they made it easier to say no.’  
‘You refused?’ Shadowheart sounded almost impressed.   
‘Yes.’  
‘I think that is the best policy, no matter now hard it may become,’ agreed Gale.


	9. Chapter 9

‘You’re not still worked up about the big bad vampire, are you?’  
Everyone else was asleep. Olivia was used to a nice glass of wine at night, but what had been a small luxury at home had becomes something else. Instead of a glass, she drank straight from the bottle, and more often than not it was with Astarion. When they stumbled upon bottles – sold by traders, abandoned in cellars – they indulged in a moment of pause. Astarion had been surprised to know that Olivia had some understanding of good wine, and although most of what they found could not have been called good, they had run across a few surprises.  
‘No more than seems appropriate,’ she said.  
He smiled. The had argued about what seemed ‘appropriate’ many times in a way that bought some fun to long, tense days in the forest. The more they had argued, however, the more Astarion realised that Olivia had a wicked sense of humour. She said her family had been arms merchants, and she'd had brothers and cousins who fought in tourney's, so perhaps her wickedness had come from people who made a living on violence and money. He could scarcely remember his initial impression of the woman, packing the supplies of dead men in preparation to live rough in the woods. It had been enlightening to see what she could deem ‘appropriate’. The absolute cronies she’d sent marching into an owlbear cave in the name of justice had just been the beginning.  
She looked tired, however, in the firelight.  
‘I don’t want to have any more of those awful dreams.’ she turned to look him in the eye. She hadnt realised until then how close they sat together, now, compared to those first nights at camp.  
‘Well, I can understand that,’ Astarion said. ‘You said before you didn’t appreciate mind games, and this is as literal as mind games can get. But your anxiety certainly seems appropriate now. It is perhaps the most appropriate reaction to anything we’ve seen thus far.’  
She laughed. ‘The tadpole has it all wrong, but it’s still unnerving.’  
‘Wrong?’  
‘Yes. Wrong.’  
‘Well, I’ll take your word for it.’  
‘What did you see?’  
‘Much the same as the rest of you. Someone that is hard to resist.’  
‘Perhaps that is the point, then.’  
‘Oh? You thought it was something other than emotional blackmail?’  
‘No, it’s not that. The way the others spoke of what they say, I thought it must have something to do with love. The person I saw wasn’t someone I loved.’  
Astarion scoffed. ‘I certainly did not see someone I loved.’  
Olivia’s eyebrows rose. ‘I thought...’  
‘Darling,’ he said in a low, dangerous voice. ‘You are not obliged to love someone who has power over you. The man I saw is someone I’d very much like to split from navel to nape. Slowly.’  
He could almost see his words sink into her sleep deprived thoughts. Then she shook her head.  
‘I’m an idiot.’  
‘I wouldn’t necessarily disagree. It changes day to day, really.’  
‘I thought they were looking for someone we loved. That’s why I was confused before, when everyone was saying...’ Olivia trailed off, and then rested her hand gently on Astarion’s knee. ‘I saw someone I was meant to love, but didn’t. I refused him, even though it had all been arranged by my father: between our families. So what do you do with a silly teenage girl who doesn’t know what’s good for her? They found someone to make me see the whole thing differently. One day I was threatening to run away, and the next I had a childhood sweetheart, and he’d been my sweetheart for years, even though I’d never met him. And it happened just like that...’ she waved her arm like some magical pantomime, or a caricature of the sort of hand-waving Gale did when he was casting in battle.  
Astarion was going to move away from her hand, but he was so surprised by the admission that he leaned towards her instead. ‘Memory magic?’  
She nodded.  
‘How did you know it wasn’t real?’  
‘I didn’t at first. Then I started to think I was crazy.’  
‘Before or after you married him.’  
‘After. Quite a long while after.’  
He let out a low whistle. ‘And that is why you think the tadpole hasn’t really mastered our minds yet. Because they’ve been tugging on your false memories.’  
‘Yes. Exactly that.’  
‘Well. That is quite something. Can I asked what you did with this husband, once you figured it all out.’  
She smiled again, but just a little: just enough that Astarion can see the gleam of wickedness that he had begun to grow fond of. ‘I’m not longer a married woman.’  
‘Separated?’  
‘You’re not entirely wrong. He is separated. I’m a widow.’  
‘That seems entirely appropriate, darling.'


	10. Chapter 10

The hobgoblin was on his knees in front of her. He’d been spared a few more moments by some goblin up on the wall, who had landed two bolts in her stomach. She groaned, but raised her sword with two hands over her head, tearing at the muscles that had been pinned down by arrows like putting nails in a plank of wood.  
She’d dropped her shield. The hobgoblin had screamed some kind of magic at her, and she’d flown fifteen feet back, and there had been not time to go looking for it.  
She cut into the side of his neck, then kicked him back off her sword. The dead weight of his body slid off the broken floor and into the pit below, and then there was skittering and clicking as the spiders tore him even further apart. She willed herself to spin around to the archer – wherever the bolts had come from – but then she was on her back again, and her eyesight was going black.  
‘Hey!’ She heard. ‘Hey! Stop that!’  
Someone slapped her around the cheeks and she saw colour again. Astarion was looking down on her, and she could feel his hands push hard on the wounds.  
‘There will be none of that,’ he admonished.  
‘None of what?’ she croaked.  
‘Dying. Stop it.’  
The next five minutes were a terrible blur for Olivia. She felt something cool sweep through her when the druid worked hard to get her back on her feet. Her eyesight was coming back around again before he yanked the bolts out of her, and then it was gone, as the crumbling temple floor had given away beneath her and she had fallen into the dark.  
The next five minutes were torture for Astarion. Halsin had said to keep his hands steady until he was ready to pull the arrows out. They had to come out there and then, because goblins coated their bolts in all sorts of terrible things.  
She was so warm. He’d had a knife to her neck before, and she had put her hand on his knee one night at camp, but Halsin had pulled and torn at her armor until he could see the wound, and his hands were pressed into her bare stomach and covered in blood. He was exhausted from goblin slaughter, and something terrible was happening inside of him. His willpower failed him entirely when Olivia was up once again, and they were hobbling their way out of the temple that had fallen into complete quiet. He stalled until he was a little ways behind and licked his fingers.


	11. Chapter 11

She’d been asleep as soon as they’d made camp, which was still well before evening. It is strange to finish a massacre – even if it seems righteous and justifiable – and then to sit around a camp fire, clean up and rest.  
They’d let her rest. She’d been close to death that day, and Gale had gone so far as to cast the cantrip she’d objected to days ago, when they’d first begun their strange journey together. But at least she could sleep comfortably, he figured, and she'd forgive him for that.  
A little ways beyond midnight she stirred. But some part of her knew instantly that she was in danger. She’d seen a flash of something sharp. Something near her neck. Like when Astarion had threatened her on the beach, or Lae’zel when they’d taken a sickly turn and thought they might sprout tentacles. It was the sort of self-preserving instinct that had become second nature since she’d been taken, and Olivia woke up swinging. Her first thought was vampire. It had been near her neck, and she was going to run for the lake. But then she saw the same face that she had seen when she was almost dead: when a goblin had stuck her twice with arrows.  
“Shit! What are you- Shit! Stop!’ Astarion spluttered in a half whisper. ‘Stop it!’  
That is what made her stop. She’d heard that when she was near death. She was still alive.  
“I-I wasn’t going to hurt you,’ he sounded exasperated. Tired. ‘I just needed a little – well – blood.’  
It took a little while for it all to sink in. He was standing over her still, she realised, when she reconciled the threat she felt with the fact that it was Astarion. Just Astarion. She knew him.  
‘You...’ she began. ‘You’re the vampire.’  
‘Vampire spawn,’ he clarified. ‘I’m not the real thing. Not really. I’m just so hungry, and a camp full of goblins have left me too exhausted to go and hunt. I normally eat animals, not...’ he finished by loosely gesturing back to her.  
‘The bore...’  
‘Exactly! It’s not what you think! I’m not some monster. I’m just too slow now... too weak...’  
He seemed to realise that he was over her, and that it was almost threatening, and that wasn’t what he meant. He got down to his knee, so that he could look her in the eye.  
‘I don’t want to hurt you. I wasn’t going to hurt you.’  
She held his gaze. He was so used to her now, he could see it happening. When she was tired – when she was caught off guard – you could see her thinking plainly on her face. She did not have the disposition for poker, he’d decided, but that was days ago, and now watched it happen with far less humour.  
‘Why me.’  
He knew his only way out was honesty. She didn’t like games. She’d said so.  
‘You were bleeding out. I smelled it. I tasted it. I couldn’t... I couldn’t help myself.’  
She nodded slowly. She didn’t move.  
‘I didn’t tell you because I thought I’d end up with a stake in my heart. I tried to assure you that you’d be safe. You were so-‘  
‘You just tried to drink my blood.’ Olivia cut his explanation short.  
‘It wasn’t going to hurt you. It doesn’t hurt, unless it’s a real vampire doing so. I’m just-‘ he self-consciously noted the desperate tone his voice had taken, but he couldn’t stop it now, he was too... ‘thirsty.’  
There was another silence. Neither of them dared look away. Astarion felt compelled to continue his argument, even if it sounded more like pleading now.  
‘I don’t want you hurt. I need you alive. You have helped keep me safe. And you need me strong, so that I can do the same.’  
Her posture relaxed a little. He felt a flutter of hope in his chest.  
‘Okay.’  
‘What?’  
She sat up a little, slowly. ‘You saved my life today.’ She moved a little closer. ‘Tell me what you were trying to do. Tell me how it works.’  
‘How drinking blood works?’  
‘Yes.’  
‘It’s as simple as that. I suck it out of your veins. Then it heals over, like two little pinpricks in your skin.’  
‘So there’s no magic. No trickery.’  
‘No.’  
‘Just a little puncture.’  
‘Certainly not as big as your more recent punctures.’  
She nodded. ‘Okay.’ She sat up a little more. ‘Okay. I trust you.’  
He suddenly found himself nervous. He didn’t know what to do with himself.  
‘Well, then... Shall we step away just a little. Should someone else wake up.’  
She stood up and moved around him, like how she'd moved around Wyll when they had sparred. She made a wide circle walking over to where the firelight ended, and the darkness fell like a curtain beyond the clearing. It was close enough to call for help, but out of immediate sight. She sat down on the ground.  
Astarion found himself awkwardly sitting behind Olivia. Animals were so much easier. They were often dead by this point. But Olivia shifted her hair to one side, and lifted her neck up for him.  
‘Just enough,’ she said. ‘I’ve lost quite a lot already today.’  
Something deep in his gut was crying out for blood, but he found himself giving pause. He settled behind her, and tugged a little at the collar of her shirt to make room: to not make a mess.  
‘You just say when,’ he said, like he would have if he was pouring her a glass of wine.  
What he had not considered was how exquisite it would be. He had never partaken from another being. Only animals. That was Cazador’s rule. He hadn't really considered that this was his first until the moment his teeth sunk into Olivia’s flesh. He’d seen so much of people. But sex was different. This was different.  
Her blood was heady, like a strong alcohol. It was sweet and warm and thick. He didn’t register her slipping in his grip, or his arms circling her and holding tight. He didn’t realise how intimate their embrace had become until it was over, and she said that she’d had enough, and he’d stopped drinking like someone coming up for air out of a deep pool of water.  
He’d never been awkward the morning after, even though he’d experienced many morning afters. But this was different.


	12. Chapter 12

Olivia woke up, and everything felt mostly normal. Her head swam a little, but that was not much of a surprise.  
She got up carefully, and levered herself off the ground. She didn’t expect to feel a hand on the small of her back.  
‘Here, darling,’ said Astarion. He had an apple in one hand. ‘This will help.’  
‘I feel a bit dizzy.’  
‘That’s to be expected.’ She realised he was talking very low. For her ears only. ‘It’ll pass.’  
The day began with Astarion at her elbow, and it seemed the day would continue on much the same. They had travelled back to the grove with Halsin, and the Tieflings were certainly glad to find themselves hospitably welcome again. But they were still planning to move, so the grove was a maze of caravans and trailers and cart animals, and Olivia’s light head had her almost trip over at least twice. Each time Astarion had steered her right surreptitiously, quietly.  
It was lunch time when he asked if she was feeling better.  
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Much better.’  
He nodded.  
‘You're not feeling guilty, are you?’  
‘No, darling.’ He looked confused. ‘You gave me a gift: one I will not quickly forget.’  
‘You are just being very... close,’ she said.  
‘Oh.’ He looked a little surprised.  
Suddenly she felt like she’d admonished him without cause. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I don’t mean that I’m- I mean, I’m grateful for your concern.’  
She could have sworn he went a little pink. There was an awkward moment of silence, like the night before, when he’d admitted to everything.  
‘I’ve never... with a person. It was always animals. The vampire who turned me, he didn’t allow- I suppose because it is so much better. You were... You were...’  
He spoke low, so that they wouldn’t be overheard. They had fallen into a pattern of speaking covertly, and it had only just occurred to the both of them. It had seemed so natural. But they were close, and his teeth were right by her cheek, and there was a sense of doing something naughty...  
‘I was your first,’ Olivia concluded.  
He chucked. ‘It seems silly to admit to having any firsts left. I’ve done so much with so many...’ he trailed off again, and he put his hand on his arm, and touched it lightly: running over her skin that was so... warm.  
She took a deep breath in. ‘Do you feel better?’  
‘Yes, darling. I feel wonderful.’  
‘You’ve spent all day worrying after me,’ she said. ‘It didn’t occur to me to ask.’


	13. Chapter 13

The Tiefling made beautiful music, and it was Wyll who found her first. A sense of relief had fallen over the grove, and so following Wyll’s ears like someone following their nose to food seemed like an acceptable distraction from whatever else they were supposed to be doing.   
What they didn’t expect was how much time Olivia would invest in helping the Tiefling write a song.   
They all knew that Olivia was not very good at hiding her feelings. Shadowheart had admonished her for it, but Wyll had seemed relieved to work with someone honest – even if it was inadvertent. Astarion, however, stood back from the whole affair. A crying Tiefling was nothing he wanted a part of.   
Olivia loved music. She had no talent for it herself, but she loved it all the more. She knew they were waiting for her, and that not everyone she travelled with now would be patient as she talked about the Tieflings grief, and gushed over the lyrics she arrived at effortlessly to express the way she felt, which was something Olivia admired. But she didn’t care. She wanted to listen to music. She missed music.   
Then Zevlor had interrupted – and apologised for it – because they were going to leave. They were going to set up camp with them near the river, and begin their journey to Baldurs Gate.   
The carvans’ were mostly packed, but there were still folk hitching cart animals, and Olivia left the bard to help a few Tieflings who were trying to lift a brace made out of metal and wood onto the back of a mule.   
Zevlor was beside her, and laughed despite himself. ‘You are surprisingly strong,’ he said, a little breathless for the heavy lifting.  
Olivia smiled. ‘I have brothers and cousins who fight in Tourneys on the coast,’ she explained. ‘They trained to fight, and I trained with them because it seemed like good fun. I didn’t have any sisters.’  
In a sense of playfulness, she rolled up her shirt sleeve to show off her muscles. ‘Not all damsels need be in distress.’  
Zevlor laughed again, and the bard promised to write a ballad to the lady who could rescue herself. But then Olivia looked for her companions, and her eyes met Astarions. She felt weak in the knees, which was a feeling that she’d been fooled into thinking she’d felt before: about her husband.   
That had been a trick, and part of her panicked that this was a trick also. Nevertheless, it was there, and something had to be done.


	14. Chapter 14

‘I never thought I’d be lauded as a hero, and I must say...’  
Astarion took another swig of wine. In cups, this time. It was a special occasion. But he screwed up his nose in distaste.  
‘This is awful. I hate it.’  
Olivia laughed. Instead of by the fire, they were drinking at the edge of the light of the camp. They had found themselves nearly exactly where they had been that night, when Olivia had let him drink from her neck, and he’d tasted something he had never considered a possibility before. Yet it had happened so easily.  
Olivia was wary of things that happened easily. Like magic. And now she felt that she was on the verge of something huge, like standing on the edge of a cliff, and she realised that slipping off the edge would be just as easy.   
She was tempted to do it anyway.   
‘You don’t seem like you’re having fun.’  
‘This isn’t my sort of fun,’ he laughed. ‘I like something less... appropriate.’  
‘Well, I wouldn’t know about that.’  
He scootched a little closer to fill her glass. ‘Sex, my dear.’ He said it conspiratorially. ‘You were married. Are you saying that you’ve never...’  
‘No,’ she said. ‘My husband had at least a few scruples, and considering I wasn’t in my right mind when I said ‘I do’, we never even slept in the same room.’  
‘Oh. So you are still... inexperienced.’  
Now she felt herself going a little red in the face. Perhaps the wine had something to do with that as well. She felt a bit defensive, but Astarion could see all of that in her face now. He knew what to look for now. He could read her like a book, so he wasn’t offended when she spun the facts back on him.   
‘Much like yourself,’ she said. ‘Or so you said earlier today.’  
‘Well,’ he dipped his head close by her ear. ‘You helped me expand my experiences. Perhaps I could offer you the same service.’   
He was so close to her neck again. He could imagine it happening again: his teeth sinking into her skin so easily. It was so easy.   
What he didn’t expect was that Olivia moved a little closer, until her lips were close to his. The situation seemed suddenly very serious to him, as though he was about to make a huge decision. Like he was standing at the edge of a cliff...  
He laughed a little, quietly, to ease the tension. ‘If you were to ask nicely, that is.’  
He didn’t expect her to say ‘please’.


	15. Chapter 15

It was very late when the revelry abated. There were so many tents in the clearing that night that it seemed an entirely different place. She could not see the river from the fire, and she couldn’t hear it either. People are noisy in their sleep. They shuffle and snore and twitch about.  
She walked in the direction that seemed most likely: where they seemed to keep meeting. Without her armour, she’d been self-conscious about the neckline of her shirt. She didn’t want anyone spying the little marks she knew were there. She’d kept it buttoned up as high as it would go, just in case. Without her armour, she felt very vulnerable. She’d tucked a dagger into her boot after she’d agreed – or asked, she was a bit hazy on the whole thing – to meet Astarion once everyone was asleep.  
He was waiting for her just a little further into the trees. He smiled.  
‘There you are.’ She felt very awkward fumbling through the forest in the dark. She’d felt awkward and heavy that morning, even if it was because her head felt light and dizzy. It is funny how bodies can be so full of contradictions. And just like that morning, Astarion was suddenly at her side with a guiding hand on her elbow. ‘I’ve been waiting,’ he said.  
She didn’t accept it so readily now, however. She gripped his forearm hard, and stared hard into his eyes. He looked confused, and opened his mouth to ask.  
‘No,’ Olivia cut him off. ‘No. Just stop for a moment.’  
He clamped his mouth shut, and realised she was looking for something.  
‘If I knew what you were looking for,’ he said slowly, ‘Perhaps I could help.’  
‘It’s different.’  
‘What is?’  
‘You said ‘no magical trickery’ last night.’  
‘I did.’  
‘And you meant it.’  
‘I did.’  
She moved a little closer, and her grip loosened.  
‘I had to check,’ she explained. ‘I might not understand it properly, but I think I have a feel for it now. The way I felt when someone tried to magic me into love, the harpies trying to pull us close to their nest, the tadpole...’ Her hand on his arm finally abated into something much softer. ‘This is different.’  
He chucked. ‘Is that why you put that knife in your shoe?’  
‘You saw that?’  
He put a hand on her check. ‘You have nothing to fear from me. You showed me something new, and now I will return the favour.’  
His hand left her elbow and moved down to her hand. His other moved from her cheek and slid around the back of her waist.  
‘You see, my darling, it’s very much like dancing.’ He held them in the first stance of a waltz as demonstration. ‘I trust you’ve been dancing before.’  
She nodded. He moved his face so close that he could feel her nodding with his eyes closed.  
‘This is a new dance, and I’d be a poor instructor if I didn’t begin at the beginning. You need to learn the basic form before you get a real sense for it and... improvise.’


	16. Chapter 16

‘Really, I don’t understand why we are still camping.’  
‘What else do you suggest?’  
‘Those paladins were holed up in a nice place. Why not move in? Make it comfortable.’  
‘There’s a rotting man in the basement.’  
‘You’re a wizard. We’ve all seen you do your magic cleaning.’ Astarion waved his hands around to mimic magic, much like Olivia had done once before, and that made her laugh.  
‘This-‘ Gale countered with a half-hearted impression of the impression. ‘This has limitations. Once such being putrefied man, who has become less solid mass and more... puddle.’  
‘Ugh,’ Astarion grunted.  
Olivia smiled at his childishness. ‘Perhaps we’d best go back to Aunty Ethel’s, then? You could come to an arrangement to stay in her lovely home, I’m sure.’  
‘Perhaps she could use someone to taste test her brew,’ said Wyll.  
‘Or a finger to finish it off,’ added Gale.  
‘Or dancing lessons,’ said Olivia.  
Gale and Wyll looked at her curiously, but that only made her laugh.  
It seemed her laughter attracted attention, however, because out of the woods came a man. He was middle aged, with long hair and a beard just beginning to streak grey. He held up his hand in greeting.  
‘Hello there.’  
The four of them stopped still. Only Olivia took a step forward to greet him after a moment of caution.  
‘Hello.’  
‘Forgive the smell,’ said the man, as he stepped closer to meet her. ‘Powdered iron vine,’ he explained. ‘It keeps predators at bay. Unfortunately, it tends to turn off friendly folk as well.’  
‘Can I ask why you’re wandering the forest alone?’  
He nodded back up the road, the way they had just come. ‘I plan to see the hag. I see you’ve met her already. Can you advise me as to what I may be walking in to?’  
‘I wouldn’t advise speaking to her at all,’ Olivia said. ‘She is dangerous, for certain.’  
‘What does a Gur want with a hag? Does she have a price on her had?’  
Olivia spun around, surprised to hear so much hate coming from Astarion. He was still standing a ways back, with the others.  
The man was not offended. He laughed, actually. ‘No. A hag would be too much for me. No, I’m in search of something else. I’m hoping the Aunty Ethel I’ve heard about might help me along, should I be able to afford her blood price.’  
‘What are you hunting?’ called Wyll. They had caught on to the obvious tension that Astarion was feeling, and were standing on guard. Olivia realised she had been the only one to miss such a thing. She felt silly. Now, she realised, she was halfway between her companions and the man Astarion saw as a danger. He was looking at her in a strange way, and she remembered Shadowheart telling her that her naivety and honesty would get her into trouble one day. Perhaps that’s what he was thinking about as well.  
Astarion, however, was most concerned about the fact that Olivia was the one speaking to this man. She couldn't lie convincingly to a deaf man, and a blind man would still be able to read her thoughts as they crossed her face, and he had a terrible suspicion as to why a Gur was in this same forest.  
‘A vampire spawn’ he said. ‘Named Astarion.’  
Olivia couldn’t help the surprise on her face.  
‘I’ve alarmed you,’ the man apologised. ‘I am sorry. But I would advise caution if you are travelling these forests.’ He looked more closely at Olivia, however. ‘Although, perhaps you know that already.’  
‘We found a bore a few days ago, which looked like vampire prey,’ she admitted. It was true enough. She hoped that some blank-faced honesty would keep his suspicion at bay. She pointed back up the hill, towards the bridge. ‘That way. Although there might not be much of it left now.’  
The man nodded. ‘Yes, I found that too. You seem to have taken it all in stride, however. Not many would react to evidence of vampirism so calmly.’  
Olivia recalled what Astarion had said. ‘We figured there was plenty of opportunity in this forest for it to feed on something other than bores. There’s a community of druids not far from here, and then there’s all the goblins and Tiefling’s on the road. Wakeen’s Rest was full of travellers before it was sacked.’  
‘That is very astute. He has likely been instructed not to hunt any beings, such as yourself, or anyone else in this forest who has some semblance of intelligence. Spawn find it difficult to do other than they’ve been told. I hope it remains as you say. It will make my job far easier.’  
‘And your job is to kill it?’  
He shook his head. ‘No. I’m to take it back to Baldur’s Gate. Alive, ideally.’  
She nodded. ‘Well, I wish you good luck,’ she said, but she turned to face her companions. Gale and Wyll had seemed to follow along with the conversation enough to know not to make a fuss. But they were watching very keenly, and Astarion was stiff as a board. She turned back to the man and raised her hand to shake his. ‘Safe travels.’  
His grip was firm. ‘To you as well.’


	17. Chapter 17

Astarion’s nose was firmly out of joint.  
Perhaps it was because everyone knew his business now. Perhaps it was because he still knew so little of their business. No one had been particularly forthcoming in their little group, save Olivia, but she could hardly keep anything to herself, even if she tried.  
‘Perhaps we shouldn’t call you Astarion anymore.’  
She meant it as a useful suggestion, but Astarion glared at her. They had gone back to the paladin’s hold. The smell was alright with the cellar door kept closed, and they had decided to sleep on the upper floor anyway. The beds were taken, and as had become custom, only Olivia and Astarion were awake. There was a small balcony, and he was keeping watch for movement in the forest. Now it was Astarion who was afraid to sleep, though he’d never had admitted it.  
‘What else do you suggest,’ he spat.  
‘I don’t know. But I figure he has no other reason to suspect you. He saw you in daylight.’  
He pretended to dismiss the idea, but in truth it wasn’t a terrible.  
‘You can’t tell me you’ve never wanted to be a different person,’ she said. He didn’t answer, so she kept going. ‘I wanted to travel the coast and fight in tourney’s, like my brothers. I was much better at that then all the things I was supposed to do. Sewing. Flower arranging. Journaling.’ She screwed up her nose.  
‘When you have been the same man for 200 years, it is hard to think of being anything else.’  
‘Fair enough.’  
‘What name would you have picked for yourself, then, if you were to be this champion mercenary? Bruiser? Widowmaker? The Bone Collector?’  
She laughed. ‘They don’t have silly names like that on the tourney circuit. It’s not some street fighting pit. My cousin went all the way to Market. He was ‘Stephan of the Sword Coast’. They aren’t very imaginative.’  
Astarion snorted. ‘If I’m to have a new name, you’ll need one as well.’  
‘Why is that?’  
‘Because It’s the only way I’ll agree to it.’  
She laughed. ‘You call me ‘darling’ already.’  
He swooped close, until their lips almost touched. ‘Then I shall call you ‘lover’. It’s more precise, anyway.’ His fingers began to trail down her chest, down her stomach. ‘And I’m nothing if not precise. For instance, If I wished to change the subject, I know precisely where to touch.’  
Olivia was going to reply, but his lips were on hers.  
'If I wanted you to gasp, I know precisely where to touch.' His words were barely above a whisper, and almost smothered in the kiss.  
Olivia found herself obliging. She gasped into his lips.  
'If I wanted you to say my name, I know precisely where to touch.'


	18. Chapter 18

‘Bless you.’  
Shadowheart couldn’t help herself. As it turned out, she had some undiscovered allergies, and the fluorescent pollen that moved through the underdark like clouds made her sneeze. Olivia had discovered the irony of blessing Shadowheart each time, and the joke had not worn thin for her yet. Not everyone felt the same way.  
‘You’re being childish,’ she admonished.  
‘I hate this,’ spat Astarion. ‘I hate everything about it.’  
‘Now whose being childish?’  
‘Shut up.’  
They were by the underground lake. Or, it seemed to stretch on forever, so perhaps it was more like an ocean. There was only one way to find out, and they were not prepared to sail out into the unknown yet.  
‘I spent 200 years staying out of the sun,’ continued Astarion. ‘And now I’m here.’  
‘Will you cheer up? We’re getting closer to a cure.’  
Shadowheart scoffed. ‘I’m sure you’ll think of some way to cheer Astarion up.’  
Gale had been study the plants nearby, as much as he could with a dancing light floating beside his head, and his ears perked up. ‘What’s that, now?’  
Sure they knew about Astarion now, and they knew that Olivia had figured out his condition before the rest of them. The rest, however, had remained under wraps. Mostly. Olivia was not so good at keeping things to herself, and had genuinely tried, but Shadowheart was very good at sniffing secrets out.  
‘We should head back, before we run out of energy. I think we’re ready to keep going.’  
And none of them tarried, because the underdark was unpleasant for all of them. Olivia could barley see, and Gale had a little magic to help with that, but kept getting distracting by their strange surroundings and jumping at strange shadows, and the lights spluttered out frequently enough to test his patience. Astarion missed the sunlight, because it had been 200 years since he’d been able to enjoy daylight, and Shadowheart sounded like she’d caught a terrible cold.  
They stopped again when they were close to the entry they found in the goblin camp: the old temple of Selune. Just a little break, and one last push to the breach, and then they’d be topside. The knife in Olivia’s boot had come in handy to cut apples, because the ones they’d found were a little old, and she picked at the worst bits.  
But then there was some scrabbling up ahead.  
‘Goblins?’ Gale suggested.  
‘We were thorough last time we were in camp,’ Olivia said. ‘I doubt there’s anyone left. And if there were, why would they come back?’  
There was a moment of tense listening.  
‘Well,’ huffed Shadowheart. ‘If someone wants to quietly go and see, I’m next to useless.’  
‘We’re going to have to ask Halsin about your allergies.’  
‘I’ll go,’ Olivia suggested. ‘It’s not so dark here. I can see. I’ll call if I need you.’  
She was soon out of the doorway, peering out of the room with intricate moon carvings over the floor, and slowly stepping across the room. There was nothing for long enough that she started to walk with less care, and then the scrabbling came close by.  
She whirled around with the knife in her hand – the one from her boot - to see Astarion across the room.  
‘It’s a rat,’ he said. ‘Of cause it’s a rat. This place is filled with rotting meat.’  
She sighed and relaxed, lowering the knife, but keeping it close at hand.  
‘We should get the others, then.’  
‘No,’ he said. ‘No way. I’m am not going back down there. Not today.’  
‘Really,’ she said. ‘You are in such a foul mood.’  
‘Can you blame me? It’s awful.’  
‘We’ll stay here, then.’  
‘I’m not waiting here on my own. There are rats. It's disgusting.’  
She wondered if she found the thing so funny because everyone else was so miserable. She couldn’t help but smile. He’d turned his back on her to glare down in to the dark, and reconcile himself with another 5 minutes. Just 5 more minutes.  
Olivia had a wicked idea. She sidled up to him.  
‘There’s nothing I can do to cheer you up?’  
He wasn’t paying attention until she slit the tip of her finger. He was incredulous at first, and then completely blissful. Shadowheart was right.


	19. Chapter 19

Astarion had never slept the way Olivia expected. He didn’t lay down, and he seemed like he could open his eyes at any moment, like he was just waiting for something to happen. She only knew he was asleep because he was moving in funny ways. Twitching. Moaning. Quietly, but just enough to notice.   
‘Asatarion,’ she whispered as she edged closer. ‘Hey.’  
He didn’t respond. He’d fallen back a little, against the tree he had rested against, sliding down enough that his shirt and hair started to rumple. His face began to twist into something pained. Not enough that she thought he really was in pain. Just a little: a crease to his brow, a deep frown.   
‘Hey,’ she whispered again, and put a hand to his cheek.   
That’s when he woke up with murder in his eyes.   
He grabbed her wrist. ‘Don’t,’ he hissed, like he was out of breath.   
Olivia didn’t move, but Astarion did. He moved closer. She could feel his breath against her lips.   
‘Don’t touch me,’ he said.   
She pulled her wrist away from him gently, until she was far enough away that he let go. She kept his eye sight, however.   
‘Why aren’t you asleep?’ he demanded.   
‘I can’t sleep,’ she said. ‘Not out here. In the woods. Not with all this-‘ she waved her hand in a vain attempt to encapsulate everything that had happened in the past days. ‘You know that.’   
He didn’t say anything. He moved back against the tree and leaned upright against it again. He sat so quietly and still that she didn’t know if he was asleep again. She wasn’t game to figure it out, and tried her best to pretend to sleep herself.


End file.
